Porchsleeper

Best hammered rock ’n’ roll band/Best band to see hammered

It was toss-up between the Sights, Detroit Cobras and Porchsleeper, as all bands are, um, confirmed libation enthusiasts. But since Porchsleeper has multiple songs that include the word "drunk" in them, and they close the night with a tune about living in their parents’ garages, we figured them the clear winners. Yes, they’re passionate about beer. Yes, they adore the din created when soused. And yes, they welcome the empty bottles tossed in their direction at shows. We’ll give ’em a couple of years before honoring them with the "Best band to be spotted at bleak AA meetings" award.
- Detroit Metro Times, 11/9/2005

The Rate-A-Record thing we did last month went so swimmingly, and reader response was so huge, that we decided to do another. Hell, it’ll probably be a regular feature.

This month’s guest reviewers are Porchsleeper guitarist-singers Brian Raleigh and Derek Vertin, a couple of homespun dudes who’ve sided with each other since childhood. Their closeness is such that they sometimes finish each other’s quips, and, more often, intrude on each other’s comments, usually in shouted blips and chortles.

You’ll note that Porchsleeper sees its second full-length — the cleverly titled Porchsleeper — released this week, produced with rickety joy by should-be-giant Ypsi songwriter Jim Roll. It’s suitably hackle-raising rock ’n’ roll that’s as thick and warm as Billy Beer, and which, by all rights, should be twisting from a gallows tree, sharing a branch with Paul Westerberg, two boughs beneath Phil Lynott’s. Healthy-lunged singing, dueling guitar leads, country-riffs-on-steroids and poppy "ahhhh" harmonies fortify tunes detailing beauty queens, weed-booze benders, living in the parent’s garage, childhood reminiscences and failed dreams. It drips pathos and heart; like a gin-blossomed barstool raconteur, humor and sadness lurking beneath the grins and twang. As understood by the band’s dogged fan base and area bloggers, this quartet is a summation of a good old American rock ’n’ roll songbook, only loud as fuck.

Further, Porchsleeper doesn’t give a hangover’s whiskey shit about having a “career” in music. The only thing missing is the beer gut, which they’re workin’ on.
On a recent night, the two Porchsleepers (whereabouts of bassist Zac Johnson and drummer Steve Bekkala were unknown) came downtown to my office and fueled up on beer. As they got soused, the volume and vitriol level rose in direct proportion to beer drained.
I played select songs from new CDs or reissues, only revealing the band or artist identities after the pair burped up their commentary.

Keysha Cole (featuring Kayne West)
The Way It Is (A&M)
Derek: What is it about new R&B and soul that they have to bring in hired guns like Kayne to sell albums, and then ruin the songs by telling you that they’re gonna come in. That “Yo, yo, I’m on the mic” shit ...
Brian: I don’t know who this is, I’m sure she’s a nice girl [laughs]. The only reason they put in that Kayne West part is so they can get you through her awful oversung choruses to whatever mind-blowing rap he’s gonna give. I like Kayne a lot, but this is a terrible song. She’s telling this story and I was totally bored with the story. I wanted to get to the Kayne West rap ...
Derek: Wait, wait, wai ... stop. What I do like about this is they made an effort to do some songwriting in the R&B genre. They don’t ...
Brian: [interrupts] I don’t think that’s true. I think there’s a lot of over-songwriting going on in R&B right now. I mean, have you heard any of that fucking R. Kelly stuff?
Derek: Have you heard J. Lo, where it’s the same damn loop over and over?
Brian: Yeah, but that’s a different kinda thing ...
Derek: [heatedly] No, noooo. That’s what they’re passing off as R&B now. You know, I’m sure Keysha helped me with my T-Mobile account.

D.A.R.Y.L
Black Tie Dynasty (IDOL)
Derek: Sonically beautiful, hopelessly outdated. It sounds like Robert Smith fired the Cure and hired the Mission U.K.
Brian: I know who this is. Is this band from Texas? I told my singer in my band in high school, and I’d tell this singer the same thing: If you’re from the Midwest or Texas you should not sing in a British accent.

Sex Slaves
Bite Your Tongue (RAD)
Derek: “K-Tel presents party rock sponsored by the letter [sings to reflect the songs chorus] O-O-o-o-o-o-O-O-O.” I like the Ramones quality to this; they’re honest about their punk interpretation. But very mud-puddle shallow.
Brian: Mud puddle? Do you mean the band?
Derek: [sings] “Me and my friends are going drinking, O-o-o-O-o-o-O/We’re gonna take the train, O-o-O-o-O-O/We’re going downtown O-O-o-o-o-O.” No, like a puddle of mud.
Brian: A puddle? What? Two of my favorite bands in the whole world are Dead Boys and Hanoi Rocks. So this is right in my fuckin’ wheelhouse. I love it. I’d buy it. And I’d listen to it cranked in my Jeep going down Main Street in Ann Arbor.

Yin Yang Twins
United States of Atlanta (TVT)
Derek: When you hear this coming out of an Impala with the tinted windows and the rims and everything — when you hear the lyrics and hear the phrasing — you think are these guys laughing the way that I laugh when I hear what these guys are saying? But it’s funny, and it’s honest. It’s tough when it needs to tough. I like it.
Brian: I thought the first song was really hardcore. It reminded me of the first time I heard “Paranoid” when I was 13. I can totally relate to a kid hearing this and going “fuuuck, my parents are gonna freak when they hear this.” But the next two songs were like this Bon Jovi pop-rap ...
Derek: Nooo. - Detroit Metro Times (July, 2005)

Towards the middle of the '00s, the overblown fascination with Detroit garage rock that invested half the population of the U.K. smoldered and cooled itself a bit. In its wake came a small group of bands that focused on making intensely detailed records with meaningful lyrics, good songwriting, and quality production values. Within that group (largely based in the comfy confines of Ann Arbor, MI, forty miles west of Detroit), we find Porchsleeper finally and firmly planting their roots and coming into full bloom with a fully realized sound that narrowly escaped them on their debut. The formula, tried and true, remains the same: catchy songs that aren't hindered down in complexity or pretense; owing equal parts to '70s arena rock, country, and its bastard child, the alt country renaissance. But the difference between this record and their first is a fuller, richer sound that jumps out of the speakers and was mixed to be played loudly — owing, in part, to seasoned producer Jim Roll behind the mixing board. Right from the opening strums of "Nineteen Seventy Two" to grand finale "Johnny and Joyce" (whose lyrics and Zeppelin-esque coda are probably the top moments in their catalog so far) the group furiously chugs along from one song to another, fueled in equal parts by Mountain Dew, Jack Daniels, and cheap beer, taking a break only a few times to catch their breath with a few acoustic numbers. Equally as impressive is the lack of Andy Rooney commentary about the youth of today, save for a four-minute pit stop with the humorous but venomous "Garage"; an ode to the posing garage rockers of today. From start to finish, Porchsleeper is one of those quintessential summer drinking records for those who like their rock to do just that: rock.
-- Rob Theakston, All Music Guide - All Music Guide

It might have seemed like the end for Ann Arbor rockers Porchsleeper, when longtime bassist Zach Johnson called it quits last December. "I think he just got tired of driving three drunk idiots all over tarnation," says singer-guitarist Brian Raleigh. Although the split was amicable, the loss of a bassist (and friend) was tough to take, Raleigh says. "I couldn't really fathom replacing Zach."

Thus began half-hearted attempts to find a new bass player via posts on Craigslist and MySpace. "We got a lot of calls from guys who were into Les Claypool and Billy Sheehan," Raleigh continues. "But we're not about to turn into Emerson, Lake & Palmer. We're into rock."

This attitude isn't surprising for a band that has earned a reputation as a hard-drinking, hard-playing live act (you'd be hard- pressed to find a review that does not mention their enthusiasm for booze).

But as months passed without a suitable four-string replacement, Raleigh began doubting Porchsleeper's future. "I thought that maybe this was it. We had a good run. Two records. I think I was mentally prepared to move on." But fate stepped in one day last May, when Raleigh got a phone call from the manager of a legendary Detroit musician.

"He said, 'Stop looking, I have the guy for you. His name is Gary Rasmussen and here's his number," Raleigh says. "I was like, 'Yeah right, Gary Rasmussen wants to be in my fucking band. Fuck you," he laughs. "Turned out to be his number."

Any record store clerk or music wonk from St. Clair Shores to Lincoln Park can tell you who Gary Rasmussen is. One look at the man's musical C.V. reveals a proclivity for being at the right place at exactly the right time. He was a founding member of the Up, a band immersed in the White Panther Party politics and hard rock of the Grande Ballroom scene.

In the '70s Rasmussen was part of the Detroit supergroup Sonic's Rendezvous Band, along with Scott "Rock Action" Asheton, Scott Morgan and Fred "Sonic" Smith of the MC5. The music was a perfect blend of brutal power, stinging solos and soulful tunes. They left little in the way of recordings however, releasing only one proto-punk single and a post-breakup live album.

Sonic's Rendezvous dissolved in the early '80s, leaving Rasmussen plenty of time for session work. Since then he's recorded with Patti Smith, the Scott Morgan Band and Dodge Main, a project that included Morgan, Wayne Kramer, Dennis Thompson and Radio Birdman's Dennis Tek.

Lately, Rasmussen has kept busy touring with such blues guys as Alvin "Youngblood" Hart and Bill Warton, the "Sauce Boss" (known for cooking authentic Cajun gumbo onstage). Serendipity struck when Rasmussen came across Porchsleeper — he was looking for something new.

"They sounded melodic, fast, and loud," Rasmussen says. "All the stuff I'm into. They do it because they love it. Seemed like fun."

What's more, Sonic's Rendezvous Band had an early impact on Porshsleeper's music. "'City Slang' was actually one of the first punk songs I ever heard, when I was about 15 years old, around the same time I got into the Stooges and the MC5," Raleigh says.

The new lineup has so far gone down like a warm shot of whiskey. "It's kind of surreal, but it's working out real well," Raleigh says. "There's a little more melody than there was before. And we are finding new vocal stuff to do."

The inclusion of Rasmussen also places Porchsleeper on one of myriad branches in Detroit rock's family tree. "There are so many truly classic bands from this town. I would never presume to mention Porchsleeper in the same breath as the Rendezvous, the MC5, or hell, even Bittersweet Alley!" Raleigh says. "But if we end up as the tiniest footnote in the encyclopedia of Detroit rock, I couldn't imagine a bigger honor."

He laughs, "Maybe we're just hanging off the cliff a little longer now."

Thursday, June 29, at the Magic Stick, 4120 Woodward Ave., Detroit; 313-833-9700. With Wayne Kramer.

- Detroit Metro Times (6/28/2006)